


Words with Friends

by iSaphura



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 17:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19155322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iSaphura/pseuds/iSaphura
Summary: Because learning another language is hard.





	Words with Friends

**Author's Note:**

> A short and sweet fluff piece because learning a language at a later age is hard and sleepless nights happen sometimes. Also, the Duoligo Owl is out for my blood.

Jigen held the cigarette to his lips and breathed in. He let the smoke circulate his lungs for a few moments before breathing it out. Part of him was well aware that he should kick the habit one of these days, but if he did he would simply replace it with another, potentially more dangerous vice. Besides, it was something to do on sleepless nights.

Jigen had a unique relationship with sleep. Some nights, it came easy and he would fall into it before his head ever hit a pillow. Then there were the nights when it came to him, but so did the nightmares. Jigen didn’t like those nights. Those were the nights he would wake up tangled in his sheets, covered in sweat and struggled to bring himself back to reality while the gunshots and yells continued to echo in his head.

Tonight, sweet Sleep wasn’t coming. He could hear Lupin snoring away in the other room. The three thieves had set up shop in a small apartment in Madrid. They were targeting a gem show after one of the exhibitors had taunted Lupin a week earlier. Lupin had sent one of his calling cards with his intent to rob the guy of every stone possible, and promptly bought the three of them tickets to Spain. Now, Zenigata was somewhere in the city, and the police were on high alert. In other words, nothing out of the ordinary.

It was a warm summer night, though mercifully cooler than it had been during the day. Jigen was out on the tiny balcony, nursing a glass of wine and a cigarette. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well try to enjoy himself. Like most cities, Madrid didn’t sleep. It took naps and relaxed, but never slept. A few streets away he could hear the sounds of an argument. Jigen could only pick out a few words in the rapid-fire, angry Spanish, but it was enough to know that it was about a woman. Probably who might-or-might-not-have slept with her last.

A soft breeze floated down the street, carrying with it a muffled snore from Lupin’s room. That was part of the reason Jigen couldn’t sleep. Once Lupin started snoring, he didn’t stop. Luckily this apartment had three bedrooms, but it also had paper-thin walls.

And open windows.

It was then that Jigen noticed a quieter, closer voice trying to introduce itself in very broken Spanish. The voice paused and then said in Japanese: “I know you’re out there. I can smell the smoke.”

Jigen shrugged as he snuffed out his cigarette. It seemed somebody else wasn’t getting much sleep either. Jigen walked back inside and knocked on Goemon’s door before opening it. Goemon was sitting on his bed. He was holding a book on Spanish, but there were also ones on Italian, Russian, Indian, and Advanced English scattered around him on the bed and floor as if he was studying for a test of some sort.

Languages were an important part of their lives. When it was just the three of them (or four if Fujiko was around), they spoke Japanese, and Pops often switched back when he got within shouting distance, but the rest of the world did not. Jigen was fluent in Americanized English, could get by with French, and knew enough Italian to understand Spanish, and enough Spanish to understand Italian though he often mixed the two up. He knew enough phrases in Russian to not get himself killed. Fujiko was a similar story, however she could keep Spanish and Italian straight and knew a couple of dead languages. Lupin, on the other hand, was blessed with a silver-tongue and spoke every language under the sun and sounded like he had been speaking the language since the day he was born. There wasn’t a part of the world where you could drop him and he wouldn’t be able to hold a conversation or flirt with the local girls. Jigen had tried more than once.

But Goemon was naturally a quiet and reserved person. He was more than happy to let the others talk in public. He spoke decent English, but it seemed not much else. He let his skills do the talking. Zantetsuken was a powerful speaker.

“Have you found the library yet?” Jigen asked.

Goemon looked confused. “Library?”

“ _Dove esta la biblioteca_ , I think,” Jigen said. “No, wait, it's  _donde_ in Spanish. For some reason, that’s the first thing they teach you to say in most languages: where’s the library. That, and how to order an egg sandwich or something. And how to introduce yourself.”

“Oh,” Goemon said.

Scattered among the language books were slips of paper with scribbled kanji and Latin letters. The one that Jigen picked up was such a combination of the two it was borderline illegible, even though Goemon had the neatest handwriting of all of them. He put the paper down and plopped into the chair across from Goemon.

“Have I ever told you about when I first arrived in Japan?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think you have,” Goemon said.

“I got into some trouble Stateside,” Jigen said. “So I went and peddled my skills abroad. Eventually, I got hired by some yakuza boss, and he traveled back home after inheriting some “money” and brought me with him. It was… difficult. I didn’t speak a lick of Japanese, all the words looked like fancy scribbles. My name is Daisuke, but I never heard Japanese as a kid. Never knew my father and my mother, well… Anyway, I had no idea what was going on around me. In a way it was fine, I was hired as a bodyguard and just had to stand there and look intimidating and maybe shoot somebody if they got too close. Not speaking was part of the job.

“But what sucked was people could insult me while I was standing right there in the same room, and I would never know. I knew they were doing it, but I could never prove it. Do you have any idea how long it took for me to figure out how to write my name? _My name_ , Goemon, I couldn’t write my own goddamn name for _months_. It was like I didn't exist. It wasn’t until my boss’s kid started learning English and he talked me into tutoring the kid that I started learning coherent Japanese.”

Goemon nodded. “I… I did not realize.”

“It’s not exactly something I advertise,” Jigen said. He had become fluent over the years, but Lupin still teased him at times about his accent. Some things he couldn't get rid of... or wasn't willing to. He wasn't sure at this point.

Jigen sighed. “I guess what I’m saying is, well, I know the rest of us make it look easy, especially Lupin. If you ever need help with a word or want some practice, let me know. We can ask about libraries together. And if anyone tries to insult you, I’ll let you know.”

Goemon blinked and gave a shy smile. He knew that his manner of dress garnered a lot of comments sometimes, but it was sometimes hard to tell which were made out of curiosity and which were made at his expense. “I would appreciate that.”

“C’mon, I’m not sleeping anytime soon,” Jigen said. “What have you learned already?”

“Not much,” Goemon admitted. “I think I’m mixing things up. It feels like I have a mouth full of marbles.”

“Then let’s just focus on Spanish for now,” Jigen said as he cleared away the other books. “I know, we’ll get breakfast in the morning and you’ll order it, even if it’s just a cup of tea. Tea is easy, it’s _t_ _é_. I’m not sure if we can get you a bowl of plain rice, but in any case, rice is _arroz_ , so there's that. Oh, and before I forget, two L's are pronounced as "y"...”


End file.
